


Esteem

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Father's Day, Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 23:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15254880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis sort of cares.





	Esteem

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Fathers day” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=10378042#cmt10378042).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The third time he reads the card over, it’s just as fulfilling as the first. Regis enjoys the moment, just taking it in, then closes it up. The back is plain, but the front boasts two meaningful words in Noctis’ tidy hand. His penmanship has come such a long way since the last time Regis received such a card—almost too long ago to recall the year.

The simple, folded piece of paper was on the matt inside his quarters, evidently having been slipped under the door. Regis was already done up for the day before he noticed it, and now he trails back into his bedroom to set the card lovingly down atop his desk, propped up against the wall. The basic paper stock and navy blue ink looks somewhat out of place amongst the rest of his room’s expensive, elaborate pieces, but it’s worth more than all of them. Regis can feel his smile. 

He has other things to do today—always does—but now he presses a different button once he’s in the elevator—riding down to the massive floor that’s been set aside for his growing boy. The hall right off the elevator is just as clean as Regis’ level, but then, Noctis has retread back into only a few of the sprawling quarters—a bedroom, a small study, and a living room. He’s muttered more than once about getting his own apartment. As much as Regis can understand that he’s raised a willful young man eager to be independent, he isn’t looking forward to it. He weaves through the empty corridors and finds the door to Noctis’ living room already ajar, so it’s easy to push through.

He finds Noctis inside, lounging lazily along the couch, his phone out and his eyes glued to the screen. He glances up only for a heartbeat, grunts, “Hey,” and returns to his rapid clicking. The clashing sounds of a fighting game play on a constant loop. 

Regis wades closer. He isn’t quite ready for a cane, but Clarus keeps hounding him about it, and he knows it’s become an inevitability. He still does his best to hide his growing limp from Noctis. He comes to stand next to the couch, and he tells his son, “Thank you for the card.”

Noctis’ cheeks stain a faint pink, as though he’s embarrassed to be caught showing even the smallest piece of emotion. He doesn’t look up again but mumbles, “Happy Father’s Day.”

Regis hadn’t been expecting anything beyond nonchalance. It’s still a tad disappointing. It makes him wonder about his first suspicion—one he’s truly hoping will be proven wrong. He doesn’t even want to bring it up, but as Noctis seems to have nothing more to say, Regis can’t help but sigh, “Did Ignis ask you to write it?”

Noctis pauses. Regis heart clenches—he’s grown to love Ignis over the years, almost like a second son, but he’d hoped that his own child had meant the sentiment. After a long stretch, Noctis mutters, “Nah, Prom.”

“Your young friend from school?” Regis puzzles.

Noctis shrugs. “He didn’t tell me to make a card or anything. But his parents are always away, so he gets kind of bummed on holidays, and it just made me think... y’know.” He lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck, pointedly looking away, now clearly embarrassed. But Regis understands. And Regis appreciates it. He’d feared that Noctis always found him too distant, and Noctis probably still does, but at least for the important things, he wants Noctis to know that he’ll always be there, for as long as he possibly can.

He reaches out to lay his hand on Noctis’ shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. Noctis hesitates, then looks up at him and quietly adds, “Thanks, Dad.”

Smiling, Regis answers, “I do love you, Noctis.”

The moment breaks—Noctis groans and rolls his eyes. But Regis meant it. And he wants Noctis to always know it, no matter what happens. He decides, “We should have dinner together tonight. You can invite your friend, if you like; I’ve been wanting to meet him.”

Noctis marginally brightens. It’s enough for Regis. But then his phone rings in his pocket, and he doesn’t have to answer it to know that he’s late for his meeting. Noctis seems to know what it means and goes back to his game.

Regis retreats, but despite the Walls and the weight of all his people, his steps feel a fraction lighter.


End file.
